He knew he had her. He wanted so badly to whisper the name that would cause her to recoil in shock. But he also knew it was too soon. This place was too public. The deal was too important. So he would wait. He was good at that. 

"A hermit like me? I meet interesting people all the time. Some more so than others." he said while nodding at her. 

"But I would love a tour guide, some one who knows all the hidden little nooks" he added. "Perhaps you and your fiance could show me the two coasts , perhaps we bump into some people who enjoy Canadian exports while we're there." he said trying his best to steer her away from his past and keep her focused on his smuggling proposals.

Inhaling deeply, she tried to clear her mind. Instead, a sharp pain in her chest caused her to wince before it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. 

"Yes, of course. Should be a profitable endeavor, all around," she said a bit distractedly as she scooped up their empty glasses and moved towards the bar for a refill. Halfway there, she turned back abruptly. 

"What's your favorite condiment, Mr. Husky?"

"Pepper" he said with his eyes hinting at a deeper sadness than he let on. "But you already knew that." he though to himself.

He watched her make the drink but it seemed like her mind was miles away. Sighing he got up. And wondered yet again why he had decided to come here now. He shook his head as he lit his cigarette. "Atleast , I got the deal done. That should tide things over for now." he thought to himself while he looked at her. "Close, but miles apart. I found her . It took a very long time, but I found her. I need to make sure I do not rush things. She is married now, she has a life. She will not run again."

Several days later, Nikki removed her reading glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose to relieve the tension there. The numbers in the ledger in front of her simply weren't adding up. Her overhead in every business now exceeded her income. 

She thought about letting them go, all of them. Her options were limited, however. She could go back to Street crimes, or she could take Frank up on his offer and retire to the old country to get married and start churning out babies. 

Staring out the window, she waited for a sign. 

Frank saw Nikki staring out the window, he sat next to her but she was in such deep thought that she didn't notice him there for almost a full minute. She seemed to be startled at his presence when she turned in his direction.

I'm sorry doll, I didn't mean to startled you.  I was hoping my visit would be a good surprise.  I have some business here that I need to attend to.  I was walking past and saw you looking out the window so I came in.  How have you been these last three days?

"Three days? Has it been that long? Huh." She says, continuing to stare out the window. 

"I don't think I can maintain the businesses, Frank. In fact, I'm not sure I want to. Maybe it's time I step back, at least for a while, and think about whether or not this is what I want to do," she said, drumming a pencil on her knee. 

Frank was surprised at Nikki's comment he nodded as she spoke.  He wondered what brought all this about.  Was she talking about the business or him.  He looked at her and slowly stood to his feet.

You know what's best for you better than anyone.  Do what you think is right for you. 

Nikki chuckled, but there was no humor in it.

"I got my start here, you know. RichardDallas was my very first boss, but he retired just as I crewed up here. Feels like a lifetime ago," she says, staring into the middle distance. 

"Maybe I should leave Detroit alone. Feels like it's just chock full of bad memories and mistakes," she said, standing up suddenly and draining her drink. 

"Maybe I'll luck out and this place will burn to the ground, at least then I can collect the insurance money," she adds, a wry smile on her face.

Frank leaned back in his chair and smiled as he raised his leg folding it over the other and lit a cigarette. 

Nikki this is your golden opportunity to change everything.  You could do exactly like you said or you could be the woman I know you are and show your strength.  My nana used to tell me with a wasn't but a pip chest high to a bump on a freak-en log that I could stop looking at the past and see what's in front of me.  The past is the past and you can't change that little one.  But if you look at what's in front of you now you can prevent further stumbles and enjoy what you have and see what's coming.

Think about that and show the world who Little Nikki Swango truly is.  Babe you got such knockers for a woman.  That means spunk, drive, guts and courage.  My little one.

Frank then stands up and extinguishes his cigarette in the ash tray and smiles as he looks at her.   

You've been busy and I haven't seen you much, so take these words as a parting gift, and when you have some time look me up you know how to find me. 

He looks at his friends and gives a nod letting them know they are leaving.  Looking at her once more a small but sad smile crosses his face.

See ya around Nikki

Frank along with John Scalese, Abe kid-twist and Frankie Yale all walk out into the streets heading west towards the train station.

After a long day looking about his new home. Dion decides to take a load off and enter one of the drink shops he sees near by, as he is making for the entrance a group of fine looking gentleman walk out the door the last one kindly holding it open for him as he enters. He nods tipping his hat to the gentleman before entering the establish and taking a seat at the bar. "Hello Ms, I'll take a nice english tea," he says to the lady behind the bar. While waiting for her to make up his drink he takes the opportunity to glance around the establishment and appraise it's value.

Here to collect the scant cash that the joint managed to pull in after she'd basically abandoned it, Nikki looked up from pouring herself a shot when a man walked in and ordered tea.

Quirking a brow at him, she poured him a cup and set it before him. 

"On the house. Don't get many tea drinkers in here," she said, checking her watch. She had a few moments to spare before her flight home so she rested her elbows on the counter and tried to be social.

"New to these parts? I detect an accent there," she said, eyeing his cane. What a spiffy weapon that could be!

Dion smiled at the lady behind the bar who decided to make small talk. Removing his hat and placing it on the counter he noticed her eyeing his cane so he placed that too on the counter before her. As he did so he accidentally brushed up against her elbow. Looking her in the eye he said, "I am indeed new around these parts madam, I hail from Britain." Taking a sip of his fresh brewed tea he looked around the place admiringly while waiting for a reply.

"Ah. Well that explains the tea, then. How are you finding Detroit? I got my start here, truth be told, but my boss cut out of the business after my first day," she said, smirking at the memory. 

Osiris was visiting Detroit on business and wanted to visit a spot that his father had told him about. It was one of Nikki_Swango's bars. When he arrived, he removed his coat and took a seat at a table. 

"I'll take a beer and a water please."

His stomach began to growl, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast,

"And a burger if you have one! I'm starving."

It was probably the munchies kicking in again. He smoked to alleviate a migraine he had earlier, but it made him hungry every time.

:George takes a seat in the corner, lights up a cigar that his friend Kramer gave him, and munches on the snack bowl on the bar. He snacks happily for free, peering around at the purple decor and dreaming of a purple velvet drappery, with food crumbling down his face. Suddenly he is bothered by something:

"These pretzels... are making me thirsty!" he shouts. "How about a chocolate malted over here?!"


 

Dion was about to reply to the pretty girl behind the bar when she got called away to server other patrons at her bar as he was starting to realize it was. Looking down at his tea he half smiled and with a shrug started drinking it. He figured after she attended to her other patrons she might come back for a visit to see how he was doing with his tea, he could answer her then. When she did he gave a slight smile and continued their conversation, "My father sent me off to America to make my bones. I'm here in Detroit looking to start a business venture and prove my worth."

Here it was. Swango's. The purple smacked him right in the kisser as he entered. Although not his favourite colour, it did well to present a well designed establishment. First looks did make impressions and it spoke to Seraph in the terms class and foresight.

Yet Seraph hoped the opposite was true regarding the rumours of non fizzy shit being available, as they were initially out of sight. He appreciated the atmosphere upon entry but was really just here for a stiff drink. Hopefully the grapevine delivered, in hush hush promises and fíon.

Seraph removed his cap as he approached the bar. He slid onto a free stool and placed the wollen dark blue head piece down in front of him. His eyes scoured the environment as he waited patiently. He began checking out the happenings around him before trying to catch the bartender's attention.

Nikki snapped her fingers at the bartender, who was late, and apparently hung over. No wonder business had dropped; she wasnt around to babysit. As he set to work on -Osiris- 's beverages, she poked her head into the tiny kitchen and had the part-timer assemble a burger before returning to the front. Each time she passed DionBrook , she continued with the small talk. 

"Oh, and how's that going? Find yourself a good family? These have been...trying times, of late," she says, turning back into the bar and putting together an odd looking chocolate concoction. Stepping to George_Costanza , she slid the drink in front of him, resisting the urge to noogie his bald head. "No chocolate malteds. Try this instead, it's called 'Bosco'," she said, grinning at him before passing Dion again. 

"Always had a fondness for Detroit. Los Angeles, too. They're special places," she mused, heading into the kitchen now. On her way back out with a plated burger, she reached under the bar and into an old cigar box that hadn't seen a cigar in months. 

"Probably not the best burger in town, but you might like the after-dinner cigarette," she winked, tucking a fattie under the edge of Osiris' plate before moving back to the bar. 

"Chicago ain't so bad, though," she said at last, realizing all the other patrons were from her Chicago crew. Stopping in front of Seraph , she grinned. "I can't imagine what your drink of choice could possibly be," she said, folding her hands on the bar and resting her elbows on it. "A Shirley Temple, perhaps? A Roy Rogers?" She teased. 

Cesare wandered through the main room of Swango's and removed his newsboy cap, careful of the razorblades sown into the fold of the bill. He never was an avid (or much competent) drinker, but he liked being in a place the crew had a hold on while he was in Detroit. He chose a seat and decided to have a cigarette. As he scanned, he smiled to see some of the Broadway crew enjoying the bar.

He wondered if Nikki ever had time to check on this place since she had taken over the leadership of the crew. As he spent a minute thinking, he produced a small pad of paper and pen and began musing and scribbling as he stared into the far wall...

A cup of coffee appeared before him, and a flask next to it. She'd been stoned out of her mind the day she'd met him in Petra's coffee and cannabis joint, but she managed to remember what he drank. 

She also remembered where he kept his smokes. With agile fingers, she slid them out of his breast pocket and helped herself to one. Lighting it from a book of matches on the table, she squinted through the cloud of smoke and smiled.

"That's a lovely suit. Is it new?" Small talk between them had turned into an odd little game, stuffed full of double entendre and odd looks.